Football singularity

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"Just leave that, there's no point caring about the environment when we kill for a living," Abu said, stopping Kwame from cleaning up their makeshift camp as they loaded goods onto the jeeps.

Kwame frowned, the rag still in his hand, half-folded. "You sound like the kind of guy who pisses in a church just because it's empty."

Abu chuckled, slinging a dented rucksack into the back of the vehicle. "I'd piss in it even if it were full, no way I'd respect a religion where the head honchos f£$k little boys." He retorted with a sarcastic grin that seemed to dare the younger boy to test him.

Kwame's jaw clenched, the rag crumpling in his hand. "That's just sad." He retorted in a low tone, but it was enough to draw glances from Kosongo and Rakim as they stood by the schoolhouse's arched doorway.

Abu smirked, but there was bitterness in his eyes. "How do you still have your morals, choir boy, when you gun down kids your own age?"

Just as Kosongo was about to get in between them, a tracer round struck the wall behind them, followed by the (ratatatata) of a mounted machine gun. "Grab cover," he exclaimed, pulling Michle, who was like a deer in headlights, down behind one of the jeeps.

Bullets shredded through the walls, cars and anything getting in its way. "Fuck," Abu exclaimed, clutching his left shoulder that gushed with fresh blood after being pierced by a stray bullet.

Rakim, who was hiding behind the jeep, closed his eyes for a moment, trying to channel the adrenaline that was now coursing through his veins. They snapped open the very next second, and he got to work, ignoring the frantic shouts of his comrades. Pulling out one of the grenades from his pouch, he pulled the pin and waited for a second.

Despite the gunfire, he managed to pick up a set of footsteps approaching their location. Without bothering to consider it, he flicked his wrist, throwing the grenade out. The grenade arced over the hood of the jeep like a fiery comet and disappeared behind a crumbling wall. Three seconds later— BOOM!

The blast shook the earth, sending a plume of dirt, brick, and bloodied limbs into the air. The concussive wave silenced the machine gun fire for a brief moment, giving the group a vital window. "Suppressing fire, now!" Kosongo barked, raising his battered AK and unloading short, controlled bursts toward the treeline. Kwame followed suit from the side of the schoolhouse, leaning out just far enough to keep his head down.

~~~

"Huh, where am I now?" I muttered out loud to no one in particular as I looked up at the blue sky. I instantly recognised where I was since I had been here once before during the early days of receiving the system.

However, I hadn't been able to get the system to react, let alone talk to Eva, over the past two weeks or so. The fact I was here made sense in a way, but also didn't at the same time. After all, I had just managed to make peace with my past life after the 20th life through.

Yes, turns out I would continue to live in a loop in that place, either dying in various ways or getting my revenge. I managed to escape twice, survive three times, and even take over the camp twice, preventing Abu's betrayal on two occasions. Turns out the circumstances twisted the guy, and he wanted to watch it all burn.

Kwame was the voice of good, finding happiness even in the most challenging situations. In contrast, Kosongo was the perfect soldier who followed orders no matter how bad, content with being the right-hand man of the chief. No matter what he did, whether it be following either of their dispositions or doing his own thing, he would end up dying.

It was like a wacky spin-off of Two Distant Strangers, which always ended the same way. In one life, I escaped the day before the Michle pick up and managed to sneak past the enemies. Upon arriving in a safe town, I reported the two groups and everyone associated with various international agencies and news outlets.

That was the only time I lived to 20, got a regular job and even thought about starting a family. That all came to an end when an assassin sent by the people who backed Michle paid me a visit, killing the family I was living with before I followed. It took me that long to realise that all I was doing was running, so in life, through 21, I faced myself.

No, I did not box myself, though that would have been hilarious, but I had a simple conversation with my reflection. Ok, that sounds like I'm crazy, but so was the situation, so I wasn't too surprised when my reflection responded when I asked what it wanted?'

We had a deep conversation and I was forced to face all the pain, anger and despair I felt. You know about the five stages of grief, yeah, that is a lot of Bs, only applicable when dealing with parent issues and targeted at one thing? If you have one aspect or person to channel all your blame towards, it's easier to tackle it gradually.

However, in my case, everything was a mess, and part of me blamed my blood relatives. Another part hated the people who not only took my youth but also thrust me into a life of despair. But the deeper I dug, I realised that part of me blamed my mother for dying, just ever being able to voice it, while my father became the convenient parent to hate.

It was only after days of therapy, which just consisted of me talking to myself, that I realised that I truly blamed myself. It was hard coming to that conclusion, but upon analysing what was different in my new life and old, the common denominator was me. I had taken the first step to a different outcome by choosing to escape, while in my last lie, I had been paralysed by fear to even think of acting.

Choosing happiness in this life had been the key, causing me to feel grateful I hadn't rejected my mum's offer to become her son that day on the boat. Being able to forgive everyone whom I felt had wronged me was surprisingly easy when push came to shove; doing it for myself was much harder.

{But you did it, though, and you should be proud of that,} Eva's familiar voice resounded in my head, causing my eyes to well up as I realised just how much I missed her presence.

"Yeah, I guess, but couldn't you have just put me through virtual therapy instead of that twisted place?" I complained, knowing that it was necessary for me to face my past, but I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies.

{Hmm, I tried, but you always had somewhere better to be or more training to do?} She off handedly complained, effortlessly deflecting the blame.

"Yeah, and who was the person creating my extra training menu?" I retorted, knowing full well that if she wanted, she could have simply stopped supporting me, forcing me to do what she needed me to. "Anyways, it's good to hear your voice again."

{Me too, though you made me worry for a bit there}

"Worry?" I asked, sitting up in the endless blue expanse that served as our meeting place. "What do you mean?"

{Well, when someone goes through twenty-one loops of trauma, worry is the least I could do} Eva replied, her tone carrying a mixture of relief and lingering concern. I wasn't sure if you'd lose your sanity at some point or if you were just slow to... let's say process things, that's why I sent Liam, well, your mental image of him.}

I let out a bitter laugh, running my hands through my hair. "Processing is one way to put it. More like having a complete mental breakdown and rebuilding myself from scratch." I paused, staring at my hands. "How long was I actually in there? It felt like years."

{Time works differently in psychological reconstruction scenarios. What felt like months to you was compressed into a week and a half in real-time. Your mind needed to experience the full weight of those memories and emotions to sort them properly.}

(Hufff) Letting out a sigh of relief that the time hadn't been much, a wry smile appeared on my face as this had been the second coma I was now in. "So why am I here?"

{Well, you have officially lived past your last life, and the day for your System evaluation has arrived.}

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To Be Continued...